


It is for you

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been two years since Erebor had been returned to them, yet the rush of joy and happiness the victory should have brought him had yet to fill his senses. Instead, he felt inexplicably empty as Fíli took on his royal roles. At first they just didn’t talk as much as they once had, which made perfect sense since Fíli had a lot less time for their usual tomfoolery, but then they stopped talking altogether. Fíli started making excuses to miss the dinners they shared and instead dined in the main hall with Thorin. Kíli was invited, of course, but never quite felt welcome, so ate alone in the room he used to share with his brother. Of course Fíli had moved out, into royal chambers. He’d been offered them too, but he didn’t want them. Not empty. Not without his brother there.</p>
<p>It was rare he even saw his face anymore. In the space of a year, Fíli had gone from being a constant in his brother’s life, to a distant memory of happier times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It is for you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure at the moment whether this is going to stand alone, I've put that it will for now, I might add more chapters later depending, I hope to at least!

He’d known the day was coming. Had known it was coming for a long time in fact, yet it didn’t seem to make any of it any better. He sat there, in silence, saying nothing, and to his relief the hobbit next to him said nothing either, and the warmth that usually resided in his big brown eyes was mysteriously absent. Kíli wondered just who was the cause of that?

 

He wondered if it was because of the beautiful dwarf maiden dancing with his brother in the middle of the floor; all eyes on them as they spun and twirled to the soft rhythm of the harp, lulling the members of the hall into an easy, romantic stupor. She was truly exquisite, with pretty dark locks and a red dress, glittering with countless rubies all of which sparkled as she twirled in his brother’s arms. She was certainly worthy of the golden prince before her, light catching his sandy hair in such a way it shone. Prince and heir to Erebor, it was no surprise he had the most beautiful woman in the room, perhaps even in the kingdom, in his arms.

 

It had been two years since Erebor had been returned to them, yet the rush of joy and happiness the victory should have brought him had yet to fill his senses. Instead, he felt inexplicably empty as Fíli took on his royal roles. At first they just didn’t talk as much as they once had, which made perfect sense since Fíli had a lot less time for their usual tomfoolery, but then they stopped talking altogether. Fili started making excuses to miss the dinners they shared and instead dined in the main hall with Thorin. Kíli was invited, of course, but never quite felt welcome, so ate alone in the room he used to share with his brother. Of course Fíli had moved out, into royal chambers. He’d been offered them too, but he didn’t want them. Not empty. Not without his brother there.

It was rare he even saw his face anymore. In the space of a year, Fíli had gone from being a constant in his brother’s life, to a distant memory of happier times. 

 

Another year on and Kíli was no longer sure what was fact and what was fantasy. He hadn’t even seen those soft blue eyes he used to fall asleep to in months.

 

At first he had been devastated, especially when he had seen the braids appear in his brother’s hair, but with all the rebuilding of their once magnificent home into its former glory, no one had really had time to notice. No one but the hobbit beside him. By the time the construction had finished, he was no longer a visible wreck; he was barely even visible at all. People tended to skip over him. He wasn’t the heir and he wasn’t charming and handsome like Fíli, couldn't even grow a proper beard, he was just the prince’s brother. Soon he was just forgotten entirely.

 

Somehow, he felt like the hobbit knew what he meant, knew how he was feeling, though they’d never verbally affirmed it. Fíli, with all his endless benevolence, had pleaded with Thorin until he had lifted the banishment placed on the one who had won them their home in the first place. Though Bilbo had just as much right as any of them to sit amongst the great victors of Erebor, on their table closest to the king’s, he, just as Kili, didn’t truly feel welcome any longer.

 

Before they’d taken back Erebor, Kíli had watched as their dearest burglar got close to his beloved uncle. Closer certainly than he had ever seen anyone get to the bitter prince before. He and Fíli had joked together, in a time when they still shared that sense of being one, that Bilbo would be the first ever Hobbit king to rule over a nation of dwarves. It seemed as if fate itself had taken a shining to the destiny of the pair who sat alone at the dance, watching rather than participating, as good as invisible to the merry dancers and party goers who swirled and sashayed around them. As if she had taken her cruel hand and snipped and slashed and burnt their golden threads until they were left blackened and broken, wavering in a desperate clambering need for another to cling to. 

 

“I don’t even see why we’re here anyway,” Bilbo blurted, finally breaking the loaded silence, glancing around the great hall and all the smiles surrounding him. Kíli wasn’t sure if he meant the hall or Erebor itself, but either way he didn’t have an answer for him. “I dislike dances. Never have liked them, not even back in Hobbiton. Now a good party. Yes, with good food and good company. That, I can appreciate! Especially when Gandalf used to turn up with his fireworks, always unannounced- but that’s a wizard for you!” A haunted, distant look came over his face before he leaped to his feet and grabbed at Kíli’s hand. “Come on, what point is there sitting here moping around like some young tweens? We may as well enjoy ourselves a little!” Kili still kept quiet, but he finally allowed a small smile to lift the corner of his mouth, just a second, then it was gone.

\-----------------------------------

There was a natural pause in the music and Fíli used it to give his dance partner a quick smile, before excusing himself to find his uncle. His feet were sore and his head hurt from the bright light. More than anything, he was tired. In fact he couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t awoken bone tired or, in fact, slept a full night without disturbance.

 

In his search for his uncle, he caught a glance of a dash of dark hair, and wondered if the pretty maiden before had followed him and how best to politely tell her he wasn’t interested. Usually the braids were enough to deter, but occasionally he also had to gently point them out and suggest another suitor might be in their best interest. He wasn’t courting anyone, couldn’t even if he wanted to, but he had them there regardless. He had no lover, but he was in love and though his uncle asked a few times who it was to be future ruler, Fíli had a funny feeling Thorin already knew who they were for.

 

It was his uncle, after all, who had begun slowly but surely to cut Kíli from his life. At first it was just more lessons, more work and more sword practice until soon it was forcing him to attend diplomatic dinners, to move into the royal wing and to start taking up suitors. It wasn’t too much longer before a hush whisper in his ear from a gruff, tired voice told him he could never be with his brother, that Kíli didn’t deserve a brother with such shameful thoughts and that Kíli was better off left completely alone. It was then he had withdrawn completely. It was that night he had braided his hair into the braids, the ones which symbolized complete and utter love for your one. No one had to know they were for Kíli.

 

No one ever would.

 

Without his brother, it was as if he was missing a limb, a phantom presence that was never quite firm enough to remind of anything but what was. If you could take the sun from someone's world and leave that world with nothing but shadow, then he was sure it had already happened to him.

 

Just as he was about to approach his uncle, he caught sight of the dark hair again. Eyes focusing this time. There, for all to see, was his brother. Kili, dancing merrily with the Halfling as if he hadn't a care in the world. A smile he had not seen for so long was present on his lips and his arms were tucked gingerly around the hobbit’s waist. For a moment, Fíli was simply struck with his beauty. It had been so long since he’d seen him, since he’d dared look upon his sweet features and allowed himself to bask in the light his brother radiated. It was then he noticed that light was missing. Though there was a smile on his face, the mirth which had always filled his eyes was gone and the shining beauty he seemed to carry along with him was gone as if it had never been there at all.

 

He then caught his uncle’s eyes and saw they were fixed determinedly on the hobbit as he danced from foot to foot, jigging alongside the youngest Durin. It was impossible to miss the jealousy in his eyes, even from a distance. The storm that passed over his uncle’s face felt infectious, and the whispers in his mind felt unbearable as he noticed the hobbit’s hands grasping around his brother’s hair and around his neck. It should have been him dancing with his brother, holding him close and making him smile like that. What right did a hobbit have to come in and take his brother?

 

It was as if the red haze which passed over his mind cleared out everything else. He forgot that he hadn’t spoken to his brother in over a year, that he hadn’t even dared look at him. Forgt all but his jealous rage. All he could think about was holding him, being against him, seeing those eyes staring into his not a lowly Hobbit's.

 

The line of Durin has always been easily infected, addicted and lead astray. Before it had always been gold lust, but the lust in Fíli’s heart had nothing to do with gold or any jewels, it was all for Kíli. He didn’t even register he had moved until he was stood before his brother, Bilbo awkwardly drawing away from him, and Fili distantly realized he was nearly breathless at the sight of his brother. How had he survived a year without looking upon his brother’s face? He was sure he wouldn’t be able to draw his gaze away for even a second from this moment.

 

Kíli’s shocked look intensified as he gathered him up in his arms and kissed his forehead possessively, as if trying to mark him as his own. The fiddles had begun to play, their instruments, and the dance was as easy to his feet as it had been all those years ago when they used to play together to amuse their mother in the late hours of the night. Kíli seemed to remember it too, though he stumbled a few times purely due to shock.

 

Everything within Kíli’s mind was telling him to flee, to run before the pain hit and his brother left him again, just as alone as before. And yet minutes passed and songs changed and yet still his brother held him firm, his gaze not leaving Kíli even for a second, as if afraid he would look away and Kili would disappear. It was not an irrational fear.

 

Neither was sure how long they danced, the candles were growing dimmer and the crowd was thinning, but it was all irrelevant. No words were spoken, as if they would break the trance they were both in. That bubble which suddenly made the past two years meaningless. As if they had never been apart.

 

They danced hour upon hour, sometimes Fíli leading and other times letting his brother take over. They danced fast and the slow, clinging to each other through the slower melodies as if they might lose each other should they not hold so tightly. People came and went, some stared and some muttered slightly under their breath, having half forgotten Kíli even existed. Fíli not forgotten. Couldn't, though dammit he'd tried.

 

When the music finally stopped, when even the musicians retired to their rooms for the night, the bubble had been popped for them. It was a rush and tumble of words, of explanations, questions and begging, though neither could hear the other amongst their own words.

 

“I’m so sorry brother, please, forgive me.”

 

“What did I do wrong Fí?”

 

“Please don’t leave!”

 

“Did you miss me? Why did you not seek me out?”

 

“Please come back!”

 

“Kí, why couldn’t you just forget me?”

 

“I never meant to hurt you it was uncle I swear I-”

 

“Please take me back!”

 

There was another pause when they both stopped to breathe, Fíli’s hands still entwined in his brother’s hair, his lips daringly close to what he knew he couldn’t have. It broke his heart, shattered it and left it to rot- but it was nothing compared to knowing what he had done to his brother’s.

 

“I just don’t understand. I don’t… what did I do Fí? Why did you leave me? I… I don’t even know how to feel about you being here now… I’m not even sure what is stopping me from screaming at you right now, I should be furious! I should tell you to leave me. If I thought I could bear to let you leave again I wouldn't hesitate to do so.” 

 

Kíli paused, unsure how to define the sharp twists in his chest and the fluttering in his stomach that made him feel sick. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be as close as possible to the prince in front of him, or as far away as his legs could take him.

 

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know I do not,” Fili lifted his hand and stroked softly across Kíli’s cheek, feeling the rough stubble under his touch once more, “I stayed away for you. I really did. I… you would hate me brother if you knew the truth. I fear you already hate me now, but that is nothing. Nothing compared to how much you would hate me otherwise. The… the feelings I get… they are not… normal. Not for brothers. I- it doesn’t matter. I won’t leave you again, I promise. Not as long as we both live. I can’t. Not again.” his braids twisted, beads catching the dwindling light as he shook his head vehemently.

 

It only occurred to Kíli then that perhaps his brother had felt the same agony. Perhaps he too had felt like his world had been ripped to shreds; that he was suddenly empty and unable to patch up the hole left gaping in his heart. The braid said otherwise. The damned braid said that he had found someone to mend his heart, who could fill it better than perhaps Kíli ever could. His fingers traced over the bead slowly, and he found he had to blink excessively to keep the tears at bay.

 

At the light pressure on the braid, Fíli’s finger’s found Kíli’s and latched on to them, travelling up and down the braid with him, tugging softly at the clasp when they both reached the end.

 

“Stop!" Kili stayed his brother's hand "Fí! What are you doing? You can’t just undo it, what would she say?” Fíli scoffed at his brothers gross error. He tried words but a butterfly that had risen from his stomach and was now wedged in his throat. He didn’t want to tell him, the words his uncle had whispered to him were so clear in his mind. He would run, as far away as he could and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him. He didn’t deserve his brother, with his odd charm and dazzling smile that managed to wriggle into your heart, regardless of whether you wanted to succumb or not. The sparkle in his eyes was brighter than any ruby, brighter than any star the elves had charted in the sky above.The hall was empty, you could have heard a pin drop, and the words were fighting free without Fíli’s permission.

 

“It is for you.”

 

It was as if a candle had been lit. Fíli didn’t even have a chance to blink before he felt fingers unravelling the braid with nimble skill having braided Fíli’s hair for most of his life. The blonde strands felt like home, days of sharing a tiny bed and amusing themselves by counting the rain droplets on the window; of days on the road riding to a new home with only each other for constant company.

 

Kíli had always loved his brother, even when he was small. He had been in love with him for a shorter time, but he knew what it meant when his brother left him. He knew exactly what the rejection he felt was, the rejection of your one had been known to break dwarves. The deep chill in his bones reminded him of it all. His fingers twisted the strands together, braiding quickly and messily so that it was lumpy and uneven like the ones he used to do when he was very young, but Fíli didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Instead he was simply staring in awe at his brother who was still there, still in his arms and grinning like he had gone mad. Of course he had felt it all too, as if he had been losing himself. As if he had forgotten who he was.

 

That one small push from his uncle and he’d realized all that he’d done wrong. Not only could he not meet his brother’s beautiful eyes, he often found himself unable to look in the looking glass, afraid he would see his own worst enemy. He had broken his own heart, and the worst part was he had the ability to fix it, but couldn’t.

 

He wasn’t even sure that if he were in Kíli’s place he would be able to forgive himself. Actually he knew he wouldn't. He certainly would never forgive himself anyway for hurting his brother the way he had.

 

The candles were dripping wax onto the marble floor and there was not a noise to be heard bar the soft breathing of the brothers and the occasional sniff as Kíli desperately held back the tears threatening to fall. The clasp fitted back into his hair and Fíli’s own hands began to weave his brother’s hair into the matching braid, choking slightly to hold down all the emotions he thought might wash him away should he let them surface.

 

“I don’t care what uncle says Fíli. I really don’t. I’d rather be a pauper, on the road again like we used to be, and be with you than have all the riches in the world and be without you. It hurt so much Fí. We could leave, You and I. We would have miles between us and here before they even knew we were gone. We could bring Bilbo with us Fí - I don’t think I could leave him alone after all the wonderful things he has done for me- and live in the Shire. It would be wonderful. You, me and endless sky. No one could stop us, no one could take us apart- no body you hear me? You don’t have to answer now I-"

 

Fíli said nothing, simply twirling the newly made braid in his brother’s hair between his fingers and stroking Kíli’s jaw lazily with the other hand. The consequences would be horrendous, they would have no where to live- even if Bilbo did agree to take them in, how would they ever make a living in the Shire? There would be no more heirs; they would be choosing to end the line of Durin. They had risked their lives to regain Erebor, how could they just leave? Especially after so many other dwarves died in the process.

 

It was clear Thorin was becoming sicker as the days passed. Not through any virus, but through a disease destined for the Durin family. Gold sickness was spreading through his veins. His need as if he could breathe gold instead of air. He pushed away all whom he loved, the disease was begining to claim his mind. It ran his thoughts and shook out anyone who had possessed the ability to snap him from the descending madness. He hadn’t spoken to either of his nephews in months, nor did he seem to care for their welfare. He had even separated them knowing they were destined for each other in order for the sickness to ready Fíli to be infected too. To drag away all whom he loved to leave him at his most vulnerable.

 

If they were to leave, would he spiral downwards and finally reach the bottom? Would he crash and consume himself with greed? Could they take Bilbo away from him- the only one who stood a chance at clearing his head once and for all? The answer was no, and they both knew it.

 

“We will have to keep it secret Kí. We can’t let uncle find out. Not until we’ve fixed him at least. I love you Kí, more than anything else. More than I could ever love gold, or anything of material. He needs that, he needs Bilbo and he needs us. For now, we shall just have to try and open his eyes. I will wrench the metal from his hands if it comes down to it, but we will cure him and then we will marry. I know in my heart that if he were well, uncle would not be opposed. We will marry on a summer’s eve and one day you shall rule by my side- perhaps by then your beard might even have grown in!” he chuckled softly, chucking his brother under the chin playfully and then pulled his brother even closer, a task kili had thought to be impossible, and kissed him softly. 

 

“First, we must contact Gandalf. He will know what must be done, and even if he doesn’t it cannot be bad to have the wizard back with us.” Kíli nodded thoughtfully and kissed his neck almost automatically. It felt right, it felt like sinking back into his own skin after hving lived lost like a ghost for the past year. He felt warm to his soul where before he had been cold. He felt alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Rosie: http://itsjustcheeseandbread.tumblr.com/  
>  For beta reading it and just making everything better and making me cry because of Supernatural. 
> 
> Also, I'm always taking prompts at my tumblr: http://little-blue-worm.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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